


Whipped Cream on Your Illusion of Free Will?

by LuminescentLullaby



Series: Semi-Domestic Fluffiness [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Fluff, Gen, Lucifer Spits in Drinks, M/M, Michael Doesn't Understand The Hunger Games, Michael and Lucifer Work at Starbucks, coffee shop AU, just go with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:21:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2005560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuminescentLullaby/pseuds/LuminescentLullaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their mates- and their mates' annoying older brother- decide that having two archangels along on hunts is 'cheating', Michael and Lucifer are confined to the bunker. Before long, they develop cabin fever, and Sam has the perfect solution- getting a job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whipped Cream on Your Illusion of Free Will?

It was ridiculous, really. Ridiculous and unfair and just plain stupid.

It had been Sam's idea, really, as most of them tended to be. His ideas were more sensible than Dean's, sure, but that didn't mean that Michael and Lucifer approved, especially of this one. It had started with the insistence that taking the archangels out with them on hunts would be cheating, to which Lucifer had retorted that it wasn't as if there was a manual on monster hunting that specified what was and what was not 'cheating.' Sam had politely informed him that neither was it cheating to make Lucifer sleep on the couch.

Withholding sex was an astonishingly effective punishment on the Devil.

Michael was a bit harder to convince. He had been reluctant to let Adam go off with his brothers on hunts to begin with, but going off without the archangel around to look after him worried Michael even more. However, after Adam had stated rather firmly that they would be fine, and that they would call if they needed help, Michael had relented. He hadn't even put up a fight when Adam had told him to stay at the bunker with Lucifer while they were gone. Michael, Adam had learned early on, missed having orders to follow, and the human used that to his advantage quite often.

So, for the first month or so, the two archangels stayed in the bunker while their respective humans- along with Dean and Castiel- went out on hunts. At first, this had meant that they had an opportunity to explore the bunker, although that had only taken them about a week and a half to grow bored of. Michael eventually holed up in the library and read while Lucifer took to the paints and canvases he'd found in one of the rooms. Sometimes, Michael would watch his brother paint, or Lucifer would visit the library and Michael would read aloud. It was like it used to be, or close enough, at least. 

However, even archangels can develop cabin fever, and when they do, it isn't fun for anyone. Considering that Sam, Dean, Adam, and Castiel came back to a bunker filled with various versions of Dean dying on canvas, it was probably time to find something for Michael and Lucifer to do. 

So that was how it came to be that two archangels, arguably some of the most powerful beings in existence, had to get _jobs_. Unfortunately, there wasn't much of a demand for 'Sword of God' or 'Satan', so instead, Sam got them applications for what he had deemed 'the next best thing.'

How working at Starbucks was equivalent to being a Heavenly warrior, neither of them was entirely sure.

"Wow! You guys have so many options here!" A man remarked in fascination as he stared up at the menu board, seemingly enthralled by it. It wasn't the first time such a comment had been made since the pair had started working- Lucifer under the name Luke, since apparently his name was not as socially acceptable as Michael's- however it was the first time Michael, who generally took orders while Lucifer made them, bothered to actually reply with anything other than a nod and a forced smile.

"Enjoy your illusion of free will," the archangel remarked dryly, a dark brow half raised as if to suggest that the way the man jumped and did a double take was marginally amusing. Behind him, he heard Lucifer snicker quietly to himself, like he didn't want to really admit that Michael had done something funny, but yes, it was funny.

Once the now stammering man managed to place his order and had paid for it, Lucifer started to actually make the beverage, since they had discovered very quickly that Michael was rather useless at the job, but that Lucifer was absolutely horrid at anything involving associating with humans. Apparently it was frowned upon to call customers 'mud monkeys' and 'icky sacks of pink squishy stuff on legs.' Who knew?

Of course, the problem with having Lucifer making the coffee lied in the fact that he had a bad habit of discreetly spitting in them when he felt like it, but so long as he was discreet, it wasn't like it really made a difference, so Michael chose not to care. However, he couldn't simply chose not to care about how frequently he was humiliated by the fact that he had been forced into performing such menial tasks, and neither could Lucifer. But it kept them from destroying each other or the planet, and their respective humans seemed pleased with them, so they could usually manage.

It was on one particularly busy day that The Incident occurred. Now, Michael didn't usually have to write names on the cups they served, given that he was an archangel and could remember all of the faces that came through. Unfortunately, on the days that they happened to have a lot of customers lined up, it would appear rather suspicious if he effortlessly remembered every order, and discretion was key, they had been told repeatedly by Sam and Adam.

Also, he sometimes had a hard time remembering what drink was what if Lucifer didn't tell him, but he'd never admit that to his brother.

So on the busy days, he would ask for names, and he would write them out in painstakingly neat cursive on each cup. The day of The Incident was one such busy day, and by noon, the archangel had Sharpie ink smeared across his hand. One girl came up and placed her order, giving a full name, first and last. This, Michael had learned, was a bit uncommon, but he didn't question it. He rather liked the name, actually. It was a bit, as Adam would surely tell him, 'old-fashioned', but the archangel Michael was allowed to be 'old-fashioned.' Lucifer had snickered slightly when he'd read the name on the cup, though Michael had simply attributed it to making fun of the girl's name. He was a bit of a bully sometimes.

"Primrose Everdeen?" Michael inquired simply as the finished drink was handed to him, glancing up at the people waiting curiously. Nothing could have prepared him for the fact that at least eight of them stood up instantly, a collective chorus of something that sounded like 'I volunteer as tribute!' erupting along with a cacophony of laughter even from those who weren't participating. 

Now, while Michael might have devoured the Men of Letters' library, he wasn't exactly fond of modern novels, so he hadn't the slightest idea what they were getting at, and could only stand there, frozen, like a deer in the headlights as everyone laughed, presumably at him. He wasn't unused to being laughed at, usually by the Winchesters and sometimes Lucifer, but to have so many strangers finding hilarity at his expense without him even knowing what he'd done- well, he might have kind of, sort of, well… panicked.

As the oldest archangel disappeared in a flurry of feathers and what might have sounded slightly like a distressed sniffle, Lucifer was helpless to do anything but cackle.


End file.
